The True Master of the Elder Wand
by EnglishNobleman
Summary: Scorpius' father had always kept his time at Hogwarts a secret from his son, but he can't hide it forever once Scorpius is at Hogwarts. Scorpius is on a mission to uncover his father's past... and his father's death.


Harry felt as though he turned in slow motion; he saw McGonagall, Kinsley, and Slughorn blasted backward, flailing and writhing through the air, as Voldemort's fury at the fall of his last, best lieutenant exploded with the force of a bomb. Voldemort raised his wand and directed it at Molly Weasley.

"Protego!" roared Harry, and the Shield Charm expanded in the middle of the Hall, and Voldemort stared around for the source as Harry Pulled off the Invisibility Cloak at last. The yell of shock, the cheers, the screams on ever side of "Harry!" "HE'S ALIVE!" were stifled at once. The crowd was afraid, and silence fell abruptly and completely as Voldemort and Harry looked eat each, and began, at the same moment, to circle each other.

"I don't want anyone else to try to help," Harry said loudly, and in the total silence his voice carried like a trumpet call. "It's got to be like this. It's got to be me."

Voldemort hissed.

"Potter doesn't mean that," he said, his red eyes wide. "That isn't how he works, is it? Who are you going to use as a shield today, Potter?"

"Nobody," said Harry simply. "There are no more Horcruxes. It's just you and me. Neither can live while the other survives, and one of us is about to leave for good..."

"One of us?" jeered Voldemort, and his whole body was taut and his red eyes stared, a snake that was about to strike. "You think it will be you, do you, the boy who has survived by accident, and because Dumbledore was pulling the strings?"

"Accident, was it, when my mother died to save me?" asked Harry. They were still moving sideways, both of them, in that perfect circle, maintaining the same distance from each other, and for Harry no face existed but Voldemort's. "Accident, when I decided to fight in that graveyard? Accident, that I didn't defend myself tonight, and still survived, and returned to fight again?"

"Accidents!" screamed Voldemort, but still he did not strike, and the watching crowd was frozen as if Petrified, and of the hundreds in the hall, nobody seemed to breath but they two. "Accidents and chance and the fact that you crouched and shiveled behind the skirts of greater men and women, and permitted me to kill them for you!"

"You won't be killing anyone else tonight," said Harry as they circled, staring into each other's eyes, green into red. "You won't be able to kill any of them ever again. Don't you get it? I was already to die to stop you from hurting these people-"

"But you did not!"

"-I meant to, and that's what did it. I've done what my mother did. They're protected from you. Haven't you noticed how none of the spells you put on them are binding? You can't torture them. You can't touch them. You don't learn from your mistakes, Riddle, do you?"

"You dare-"

"Yes, I dare," said Harry. "I know things you don't know, Tom Riddle. I know lots of important things that you don't. Want to hear some, before you make another big mistake?"

Voldemort did not speak, but prowled in a circle, and Harry knew that he kept him temporarily mesmerized and at bay, held back by the faintest possibility that harry might indeed know a final secret...

"Is it love again?" said Voldemort, his snake's face jeering. "Dumbledore's favorite solution, love, which he claimed conquered death, though love did not stop him falling from the tower and breaking like an old waxwork? love, which did not prevent me stamping out your Mudblood mother like a cockroach, Potter- and nobody seems to love you enough to run forward this time and take my curse. So what will stop you dying now when I strike?"

"Just one thing," said Harry, and still they circled each other, wrapped in each other, held apart by nothing but the last secret.

"If it is not love that will save you this time," said Voldemort, "you must believe that you have magic that I do not, or else a weapon more powerful than mine?"

"I believe both," said Harry, and he saw shock flit a cross the snakelike face, though it was instantly dispelled; Voldemort began to laugh, and the sound was more frightening than his scream's; humorless and insane, it echoed around the silent Hall.

The door to the Great Hall stood wide open, so no one noticed as the tall, blond haired boy slipped into the quiet crowd. He slithered past people, darting this way and that, but he came up short when he realized who was in the center of the big circle, who prowled in circles like vulture animals, watching each other hungrily. He couldn't make his feet move anymore. Draco Malfoy froze where he stood, sandwiched between two tall and burly men. Whether Death Eater or not, Draco was not quite sure.

"You think you know more magic than I do?" he said. "Than I, than Lord Voldemort, who has performed magic that Dumbledore himself never dreamed of?"

"Oh, he dreamed of it," said Harry, "but he knew more than you, knew enough not to do what you've done."

"You mean he was weak!" screamed Voldemort. "Too weak to dare, too weak to take what might have been his, what will be mine!"

"No, he was cleverer than you," said Harry, "a better wizard, a better man."

"I brought about the death of Albus Dumbledore!"

Draco winced in the crowd.

"You thought you did," said Harry, "but you were wrong."

For the first time, the watching crowd stirred as the hundreds of people around the walls drew a breath as one.

"Dumbledore is dead!" Voldemort hurled the words at Harry as though they would cause him unendurable pain. "His body decays in the marble tomb in the grounds of this castle, I have seen it, Potter, and he will not return!"

"Yes, Dumbledore's dead," said Harry calmly, "but you didn't have him killed. He chose his own manner of dying, chose it months before he died, arranged the whole thing with the man you thought was your servant."

"What childish dream is this?" said Voldemort, but still he did not strike, and his red eyes did not waver from Harry's.

"Severus Snape wasn't yours," said Harry, "Snape was Dumbledore's, Dumbledore's from the moment you started hunting down my mother. And you never realized it, because of the thing you can't understand. You never saw Snape cast a Patronus, did you, Riddle?"

Voldemort did not answer. They continued to circle each other like wolves about to tear each other apart.

"Snape's Patronus was a doe," said Harry, "the same was my mother's, because he loved her for nearly all of his life, from the time when they were children. You should have realized," he said as he saw Voldemort's nostrils flare, "he asked you to spare her life, didn't he?"

"He desired her, that was all," sneered Voldemort, "but when she had gone, he agreed that there were other women, and of purer blood, worthier of him-"

"Of course he told you that," said Harry, "but he was Dumbledore's spy from the moment you threatened her, and he's been working against you ever since! Dumbledore was already dying when Snape finished him!"

"It matters not!" Shrieked Voldemort, who had followed every word with rapt attention, but now let out a cackle of mad laughter. "It matters not whether Snape was mine or Dumbledore's, or what petty obstacles they tried to put in my path! I crushed them as I crushed your mother, Snape's supposed great love! Oh, but it all makes sense, Potter, and in ways that you do not understand!

"Dumbledore was trying to keep the Elder Wand from me! He intended that Snape should be the true master of the wand! But I got there ahead of you, little boy- I reached the wand before you could get your hands on it, I understood the truth before you caught up. I killed Severus Snape three hours agao, and the Elder Wand, the Deathstick, the Wand of Destiny is truly mine! Dumbledore's last plan went wrong, Harry Potter!"

"Yeah, it did," said Harry. "You're right. But before you try to kill me, I'd advise you to think about what you've done... Think, and try for some remorse, Riddle..."

"What is this?"

Of all the things that Harry had said to him, beyond any revelation or taunt, nothing had shocked Voldemort like this. Harry saw his pupils contract into slits, saw the skin around his eyes whiten.

"It's your one last chance," said Harry, "it's all you've got left... I've seen what you'll become otherwise... Be a man... try... Try for some remorse..."

"You dare-?" said Voldemort again.

"Yes, I dare," said Harry, "because Dumbledore's last plan hasn't back fired on me at all. It's back fired on you, Riddle."

Voldemort's hand was trembling with the Elder Wand, and Harry gripped the Snatcher's very tightly. The moment, he knew, was seconds away. The moment when he would give the battle over.

"That wand still isn't working properly for you because you murdered the wrong person. Severus Snape was never the true master of the Elder Wand. He never defeated Dumbledore."

"He killed-"

"Aren't you listening? Snape never beat Dumbledore! Dumbledore's death was planned between them! Dumbledore intended to die undefeated, the wand's last true master! If all had gone as planned, the wand's power would have died with him, because it had never been won from him!"

"But then, Potter, Dumbledore as good as gave me the wand!" Voldemort's voice shook with malicious pleasure. "I stole the wand from its last master's tomb! I removed it against its last master's wishes! Its power is mine!"

"You still don't get it, Riddle, do you? Possessing the wand isn't enough! Holding it, using it, doesn't make it really yours. Didn't you listen to Ollivander? The wand chooses the wizard... The Elder Wand recognized a new master before Dumbledore died, someone who never laid a hand on it. The new master removed the wand from Dumbledore against his will, never realizing exactly what he had done, or that the world's most dangerous wand had given him its allegiance..."

Voldemort's chest rose and fell rapidly, and Harry could feel the curse coming, feel it building inside the wand pointed at his face.

"The true master of the Elder Wand is Draco Malfoy."

It was as though someone had switched on a light. A large movement came about the large crowd as all eyes turned towards Draco, who stood, stock still, his pale face becoming even more pale as he stood there. Harry turned his eyes into the crowd, along with Voldemort. Everyone's eyes were upon him, and Draco could do nothing but stand there. Silence stretched on, the sunlight from the rising sun poured over into the Great Hall.

"Malfoy..." Draco's eyes flashed over to Harry, who was standing there, looking at him. His mouth and throat dry, his hands quivering by his sides, Draco stepped out from the crowd, slowly starting towards the two that stood in the middle. He didn't know where to go.

"Draco!" Draco didn't need to look to know his mother had yelled his name. He could hear a struggle, and her soft crying. He did not turn to look at her, he could not. His eyes were staring straight at Harry, who looked back at him, gray eyes meeting green. Voldemort stared at him, he could feel his stare intense and uncertain. Finally, the silence was broken.

"You." Draco turned his head towards Voldemort, who stood very still, watching everything with an impassive expression, though Draco couldn't help but see the thoughts rushing behind Voldemort's dark red eyes. Draco looked away, quickly finding the floor rather fascinating. Voldemort spoke again, his voice angry but seeming quite convinced with himself, "Fine! You, boy, come here!"

Draco jumped and knew immediately he was being called, for the mark on his arm burned intensely. He slowly approached the Dark Lord, his hand shaking so hard his own wand, which was clasped in his hand, wiggled. He looked up, reluctantly, into the Dark Lord's eyes. The Dark Lord thrust something towards him and he winced, assuming he was about to be hit. No blow came, however. He opened his eyes and caught sight of Voldemort's outstretched hand, where the Elder Wand sat, presenting itself to him. Draco stared at it numbly, confused.

"Take it!" Draco jumped again and Narcissa's cries grew louder and more desperate over the silence that echoed throughout the Great Hall, pressing down hard against Draco's ear drums. He slowly lifted his wand free hand and took the wand from the Dark Lord's. At first, nothing happened, and Draco had a fleeting hope that Potter was mistaken. And then the wand gave a little shudder and a great gold light filtered out from the wand, engulfing it and Draco's hand in golden light before disappearing. Voldemort did not look happy, but held out his hand again. Silence echoed once more, Voldemort's mind raced.

Draco lifted his hand to replace the Elder Wand, but one impatient snarl on Voldemort's face told him that he was to give up his own wand. He slowly placed his own Hawthorn wand into Voldemort's pale hand. The Elder Wand felt warm and inviting, but Draco longed for it not to work for him.

Voldemort backed up several spaces and said, glaring slightly, "Finish him!" Draco looked startled and Narcissa let out a painful cry. He slowly turned his head to look towards Potter. Potter, who had saved him two times today, Potter, who he had tormented throughout school, Potter, who he was supposed to kill. Draco expected Potter to retaliate with more inspiring information, but the boy remained silent, slowly walking towards the center of the Great Hall. Draco hesitated, terrified. His mark burned a warning and he started towards Potter.

He remembered when they were last in this position. It had been back in second year, when the dueling club had started up. Snape and Gildroy Lockhart had partnered him and Potter up, and they faced off. Back then, it was petty spells, but this was different. Potter raised his wand first and Draco slowly followed.

They bowed, turned, walked away. Voldemort was getting impatient. Draco was stalling. But even as they faced each other again, Potter did not raise his wand. Draco hesitated again. "Do it!" Hissed Voldemort, making Potter jump and raise Dumbledore's wand. It did not feel right, to call it his wand. Potter was staring at him intently. Draco was confused, momentarily, before suddenly he was thrown into what appeared to be a vision.

He could see himself, pointing his wand and killing Potter, but just as quickly, the scene changed and Draco turned, pointing his wand at Voldemort, who stood, almost as vulnerable as any other man or woman in this room. He was pulled out. Potter seemed not to have noticed anything, but Draco knew better. He took a breath and slowly raised his wand higher. His heart was pounding, his mother was crying, the Great Hall was quiet. And then-

"Avada Kedabra!"

Draco whirled, the Great Hall erupted into screams, Draco's name was called out by his mother, and Draco pointed the Elder Wand towards Voldemort. Mad-Eye's words from their lessons in class erupted into Draco's mind. To cast an unforgivable curse, you have to mean it. Voldemort flew back, Potter rushed forward, everyone moved at once. Draco watched as Voldemort's figure was thrust backwards into the wall, hit it, and crumpled to the floor. Watched as Potter raised his wand, along with five others who he did not see, and yell the same curse he had just screamed.

Voldemort's limp figure rose, flew, fell. His Hawthorn wand rolled away from Voldemort's fingertips. Draco stood, froze, watching.

The Death Eaters ran for the doors, screaming blood murder. A hand grabbed his shoulder. Draco jumped and tried to knock them off, but froze when he noticed his mother's tear stained cheeks staring back at him.

It took an hour and a half for Draco to realize he had just killed Lord Voldemort.

By the time it had dawned on him, everything in the Great Hall had more or less quieted down. The few Ministry officials who had not been Imperialized gathered up Voldemort's body and brought him away, had went off to capture the other Death Eater's who had asked, had sent the ones they did have to Azkaban. Everyone was huddled in little groups. The people who had died were lied out on the floor for everyone to see. Draco didn't look at any of them, too busy trying to make his mother get off of him, though he knew it was impossible.

Draco didn't let go of the Elder Wand, he kept it held tightly in his hand, hoping to never have to let it go.

Harry stood with the Hermione. Ron was with Ginny and the rest of his family, mourning Fred's lose. It didn't take long for Ron to come over and sit beside them on an upturned table. His blue eyes glanced towards the Malfoy's before he muttered, "He really did it." Harry smiled gently. Voldemort was gone, the air seemed lighter, the sun seemed brighter. Had the world always seemed been this bright?

"Harry..." Hermione started, but cut off. Harry glanced up and his eyes caught sight of Malfoy, who was steadily making his way towards them. He looked a mess. His hair was disheveled, his cheeks still tinged with black soot from their escape from the Room of Requirements, his clothes askew. The only clean thing on him was the wand he gripped tightly in his hand. The Elder Wand. Harry stood, and when he did, Draco hesitated, but pushed on, seeming determined.

Ron and Hermione stood too, curious and slightly alert. Draco stopped right in front of Harry, staring at him. Harry didn't realize that Draco was taller than him until now. Silence stretched on between them. The Weasley family had paused in their mourning to watch.

Harry couldn't help but notice that Draco's eyes, though still gray, looked slightly brighter, with what seemed to be pride held behind them, though his face was slightly grave and tired looking. He glanced over his shoulder. He could see Lucius looking after Draco, his eyes bright and proud, and Harry suddenly understood a lot better, as he thought back to the time he had hid from Draco and his father in Borgin and Burkes before the beginning of his second year, when Lucius had asked Draco why his grades weren't as good as a Mudblood's. Draco had never been accounted for when it came to the great Quidditch player Harry Potter, and his overly smart friend Hermione Granger, and their equally famous friend Ron Weasley. Harry wondered, with a slight pang of something, whether Draco had ever gotten told that he could be better simply because of who his peers were.

Finally, the silence broke. "It's mine?" Draco held up the Elder Wand, looking at it carefully. Harry nodded. "All yours." More silence. It seemed to be rather awkward. Draco stuffed the Elder Wand out of sight. He nodded, took a breath, and then awkwardly turned away, as though there had been something he was about to say, but he decided against it.

Ron and Hermione were the first to turn to head back to the Weasley's, keen to get away from the awkwardness. Harry hesitated, and then went to follow. "Wait!"

Harry, Ron, and Hermione turned, their eyes landing on Draco, who had turned back around as well. Draco's eyes landed on Hermione's face first.

"Uh... I'm sorry." He said. Hermione looked bewildered, shocked, but before she could regain herself, Draco's eyes turned themselves to Ron. "And... Your family isn't all bad." Ron smirked and said, "No, they're not." But Draco didn't seem to hear. His eyes had finally landed on Harry, only being able to stare. Finally he said, "...Uh..." Harry nodded quickly, immediately knowing what it was he was trying to say. "It's fine... We won." Draco glanced around, he seemed slightly shocked, as though surprised to see everyone in the room before he nodded and quietly repeated, "We won..."

Without a second glance, Draco turned and walked back over to his parents. Narcissa collapsed into a fresh new batch of tears, clutching to Draco as though for dear life. Draco looked embarrassed, his cheeks tinted pink and he quickly looked away from his mother. Lucius raised a hand and placed it on Draco's shoulder. Ron and Hermione had turned and walked back towards the other Weasley's. Harry watched Draco smile towards his father before he turned and walked towards the Great Hall doors.

Within seconds, Hermione and Ron were by his side.

"Maybe he's not so bad, that one." said Ron, as though he were trying to sound indifferent about the whole thing. Hermione smirked gently, her hair askew and her cheeks very dirty with sweat, blood, and dirt.

"Or maybe you've just grown soft." Ron snorted and rolled his eyes.

"Kind of hard not to grow soft on the bloke who basically helped us survive." Harry smiled gently to as they stepped out into the morning air. Everything seemed fresh, clean, perfect, despite the large mess from the war that had just taken place.

"Yeah, 'supose it is."

*19 Years Later*

"Scorpius! We're going now!" Draco Malfoy yelled up the stairs of the large Malfoy Manor. Scorpius Malfoy, 11 years old, scowled slightly down at his book before he sighed and marked the page, quickly grabbed his stuff and hurrying down the stairs. Draco was waiting by the front door, sliding his wand into his pocket. "Dad, tell me the story about the wand again." Scorpius persisted, but Draco ignored him and held out his hand. Scorpius sighed and took his hand before he felt the familiar sensation of Apparition.

When they landed, they were on the platform to Hogwarts, platform nine and three quarters. Scorpius' pale eyes widened at the sight of the train, his mouth falling open slightly. Draco placed a hand upon his shoulder and Scorpius glanced up at him. "You'll owl, right?" Draco said. There was a small note of stern in his voice, but mostly just somewhat nervousness. Scorpius smiled gently and nodded, saying sarcastically, "No, dad, I'm never going to talk to you again." Draco smirked and squeezed his sons shoulder before turning towards a large group of people on the other end of the platform. Scorpius followed his father's gaze and caught sight of a large family of red heads and another family following them.

One of the men from the other group, who adorned glasses upon his face and had black untidy hair, nodded towards his father. Draco nodded back, but abruptly turned away. Draco's eyes scanned over all the children before he turned back to look up at his father, who squeezed his shoulder again. "Who're they dad?" Scorpius asked just as the train whistle blew. "Hurry up." Draco said, ignoring him again as the bellboy hurried to grab Scorpius' things. Scorpius hurried for the train, jumping on board, a feeling of excitement over coming him. He glanced back and saw Draco smirking after him, winking. Scorpius winked back before he hurried along the aisle as the train started moving.

He found himself an empty compartment and sighed, closing the door before sitting down. As he glanced out the window, he realized the train had already left the station and his father was falling farther and farther behind him.


End file.
